


Found New Toys (Prequel)

by candlejill



Series: Feed My Frankenstein [12]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Carl stressing out, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Description of lady parts, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor PTSD feelings, Negan needs someone to slap a dick out of his mouth, Romanticism of possibly traumatic events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: ~* PREQUEL TO THE FEED MY FRANKENSTEIN SERIES! *~Carl has a plan that unexpectedly pushes them past previous boundaries.





	Found New Toys (Prequel)

Carl didn't spend much time plotting out the finer points of his plan. The _most_ he figured was that Negan had been lenient the last time he’d decided to follow through with a half-assed scheme. And anyway he was improving. This time his presence had been more casually announced. He didn’t pop out of any trucks hell bent on vengeance with a machine gun. Instead he drove himself right up to the front door of one of the outposts, giving them plenty of time to see him approach, and simply demanded to see Negan.

Or at least that’s what he'd planned on admitting after his eventually capture. In all actuality he'd been surveying the area, trying to figure out what kind of range the outpost was capable of. How good their sightline visibility was from any angle he could find. Any scrap of information that may prove to be useful was really all he was after.

It's not like he was trying to hide himself from them, but it admittedly would have been more convenient if he didn’t have to deal with them. Though, he couldn’t exactly say he was surprised when one of the more competent Saviors finally found him.

Being found didn't frighten him more than it annoyed him. Carl was hoping to have more time. And it wasn't like there were rules against people from the communities paying Negan a _friendy_  visit. Though there probably would be after this, Carl had to concede.

After the takeover Negan made it clear,  _they_ would be working for _him_ now. And with that shred of indentured service they would be buying their safety. Carl just thought he should figure out what kind of so called “protection” they were benefiting from in this new arrangement. What kind of resources did they even have to relinquish? Just  _h_ _ow_ could they manage to protect everyone? And if Carl happened to find any weak spots in the process then that was fine by him. He'd file that information away until it was useful.

The Savior that found him didn’t seem to think he had a very valid point, however.

He drug Carl into the outpost to a small room with a bed in it. It was obvious that it was someone’s living quarters though it could barely be called that. The man who’d led him there left the room, instructing Carl not to step a toe out of it or he’d get his entire foot blown off. Carl rolled his eye and walked further into the room pretending to ignore the heavy swing of the door closing behind him.

Waiting was excruciating.

It wasn't fear that pulled at him _._ If Negan barely minded being shot at with a machine gun, then poking around an outpost wouldn’t be a capital offense. He _hoped._ But Carl was bored out of his damn mind. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there but it felt like hours. There weren’t any books visible in the room. Nothing to do. No weapons to clean as the Savior took his knife. He considered taking a nap just to pass the time but didn’t feel like he’d be able to let his guard down _that_ much.

When he could take it no longer, he wandered over to the cupboards and started to explore.

Nothing but dusty glasses. He hummed to himself in thought, half debating trying to stack them in a pyramid just to alleviate his boredom. In the drawers he found silverware and a small stack of old magazines.

“ _Finally!_ ” He sighed to himself with a relieved smile.

Grabbing the pile, he brought them over to the only chair in the room. Dropping them on the small table next to it, Carl grabbed the one on top. He looked it over skeptically. The year on the side said _1981_ . He huffed a silent laugh when he realized he had no idea what the hell year it was anymore. It was something he thought about occasionally. He could still remember the last birthday he celebrated, but generally tried not to. Anything from _before_ was too painful to remember. But he hoped someone out there was still keeping track.

Flipping through pages, he found himself genuinely enjoying the pictures. The images were faded but evidence lingered that they'd once been vibrant. The stories were vapid, about who the hell ever was famous in the 80s, but those worn pictures lifted his spirit. The women in broad shoulder pads and bright makeup, the men in vibrant patterns. They nearly all had poofy hair, some not unlike his own he realized.

When he was done looking through the pictures, he threw it to the side and shuffled through the rest of the pile. More fashion magazines displaying old images of ghosts long forgotten.

His heart raced as he shifted through the pile. For a moment he thought he saw something he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Swallowing nervously, he finally found what he'd though he'd seen.

A goddamn porno mag hidden behind vintage fashion.

_That_ magazine looked far more recent. Without picking it up, he figured it was late 90s. Leaving the pile of magazines, Carl stood from the chair and walked over to the door to listen carefully. It was quiet, but he was certain there was someone nearby guarding it.

Making a decision, he walked swiftly to the pile, shuffling them back together in a stack, leaving the porno on top. He brought them back over to the drawer and put them away. Before pushing the drawer shut, however, he studied the cover more carefully.

He’d seen naked women before. In the past it had just been some risque magazine with black and white photos in what he was assured was a _tasteful_ manner. Carl had seen those before, shared between random people they’d met when they were traveling on the road, used as bragging or bartering points. Though he’d never examined them with the scrutiny he’d secretly hoped for, he never dared to steal longer than a glance. And no way in hell would he ask to borrow one.

But here was one right in front of him. The colors were still bright and called to him to turn the page.

He glanced nervously to the door before flipping the page open.

Taking his time, he carefully picked the magazine up and really examined it. He had opened to a woman sitting on the edge of a chair, pushing her bare breasts towards him. He’d never seen anyone that looked like her in his life, at least not that he could remember. It seemed impossible that anyone like her could have once existed. Her hair was styled, she had makeup on, and she was unbelievably beautiful.

At the first glimpse of a breast his dick stirred with interest, but he ignored it as he focused on her body. He wanted to know what skin like that would feel like. She looked so soft. So delicate and so unlike the women he knew. For a brief moment he wondered where she was now. Probably dead.

Shaking the thought, he turned to page to find the same woman in a new position, contorting her naked body in a way that put her assets on full display.

Arms tingling, Carl carefully looked over the image. Wondering what it would be like to feel her breasts. His heart thumped rapidly as his dick throbbed in protest of neglect, no longer wanting to be ignored.

Breathing deeply, Carl sat the magazine on the counter top. He opened to the next page where he saw her, legs open wide, spread for him to see everything. He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat and allowed a hand to drift carefully to the front of his jeans. He pushed back, rubbing his hard length further into the worn denim. Carl hadn’t really known what to expect when he’d thought of women in the past, but now there was no room for his imagination.

Everything was right in front of him in printed detail. She looked so pink, red and swollen, glistening wet lips between her thighs. He had to grip tight at his cock to soothe the ache. He longed to know what it would feel like to sink his dick into her. To grab a handful of her soft and supple breasts. 

Quickly breathing, Carl unzipped his jeans and reached his hand inside. Only enough to stroke gently, not nearly as much friction as he craved. But he wasn’t dumb enough to get caught with his pants literally down. Sighing reluctantly, Carl pulled his hand out. He zipped himself back up and closed his eye.

Then he heard footsteps echoing and loud outside the hall, as his eye shot open. Looking guiltily at the magazine not quite ready to give it up, Carl held tight onto the corner and carefully tore out the page without thought. Hastily folding it up, he tucked it into his front shirt pocket and slammed the magazine closed. Pulling the drawer open nervously, Carl threw it in. Shoving magazines over the top of the porno in a weak attempt to hide it, he quickly slammed the drawer shut and turned around. He took a deep breath and tried not to appear guilty. Leaning back against the counter, he focused on calming his nervous heart.

He waited for the inevitable intrusion as the steps grew louder.

There was a confident knock on the door. Three times.

He hoped Negan would mistake his restless state for nerves.

“Are you decent?” Negan mocked as the door swung open. Strolling in, relaxed with Lucille over his shoulder he continued, “Well, to what do I owe the goddamn pleasure, young Carl?”

Carl forced himself to lean casually against the cabinets, “Didn’t think there was a crime in going for a walk. You think you own us, right? You say you’re providing a _service?_ Well, I needed to see what we were getting in return. Doesn’t exactly look like you actually have a hell of a lot of protection to offer.”

Taking slow steps toward him, Negan pursed his lips while studying him carefully, “So, do you think I’m _actually buying_ that lameass story, or do you have excuse B cued up?”

Carl shrugged, “I don’t care if you believe me. That’s the only answer you’re going to get.”

Negan lifted his eyebrows in amusement. Bringing Lucille down, he nudged Carl’s shoulder with the end of her, “Now, I know you only have the one eye but tell me you don’t need a repeat performance just to _see_ how what you’re _doing_ right now is not going to fucking fly. I know you miss those home cooked meals but you can _not_ come strolling by whenever you damn well please.”

He shrugged once more, refusing to be intimidated. Though, as Negan stepped forward again, he had to admit that Negan _was_ making him uncomfortable. Not out of fear but out of anger. Stepping into his personal space like he owned it. Just as entitled as he was about everything else. Carl refused to cower away from him, instead he glared indignantly back up.

“You keep saying you have all these rules. Maybe you need to give us the official rulebook. Or do you just decide people are breaking them whenever you feel like?”

“Yep, kid, that’s pretty much how this works,” Negan smiled. “Perks of being the fucking leader.”

He gave Carl a long glance over before looking at the cabinet drawer. He pulled it open carefully to reveal the messy stack of magazines Carl had thrown back in.

“You get bored while you waited for me?” He asked, smiling knowingly at Carl.

Fighting his embarrassed panic, Carl finally broke and turned away. Ignoring the question, he asked instead, “Are you gonna bring me home or can I get back to my truck now?”

Negan laughed cooly, “You think you’re getting out of here?” Leaning back he continued, “ _Without_ a punishment?”

“Punishment for _what?_ You never said we couldn’t come here!”

Negan stood tall and lifted his eyebrows, impressed by Carl’s tenacity. “How about we start with vandalism and theft?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch-”

Negan reached his hand out and plucked the paper from Carl’s front pocket.

Carl closed his eye, swearing to himself that he was an idiot for doings something so impulsively wreckless.

Negan tapped him with the folded up paper, “Now, I’m going to be disappointed as hell if I open this up and find you’re stealing some hairstyling tips. I know you like to keep those luscious locks flowing, but we have more pressing matters to attend to in this day and age. He took a step back, finally allowing room for Carl to breath, though it still felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“Stand over there,” Negan ordered as he pointed to the end of the bed casually.

Reluctantly, Carl walked over. He kept his eye trained on Negan the whole time, ready to move if he decided to strike out with Lucille.

Grabbing the handle of the drawer, Negan opened it and rifled through until he found the one they both knew he was looking for.

Carl clenched his jaw, preparing himself for the incoming torment.

Negan approached him, cocky in his walk as he strutted close. Without breaking eye contact, he slid the folded up piece of paper back into Carl’s breast pocket. He lifted the magazine and with a mocking grin he waved it back and forth in front of him.

Finally breaking, Carl crossed his arms and shrugged.

Just as he was about to speak, try to scramble up some annoyed defense, Negan interrupted, “Did you have time to check it out or did you just steal the first pussy you saw? I know it’s easy to form emotional attachments over your first, but there’s a whole world out there, kid.”

Swallowing awkwardly, Carl could feel the warm tingling sensation burning across his face in embarrassment.

As he stood, shoulder bumping shoulder next to Carl, Negan flipped open the pages. “Shit, I’m trying to imagine this from your perspective and I’m having a difficult time. How old are you? Sixteen? Eighteen? Do you even fuckin’ know? Have you _seen_ a pussy before? I don’t even mean up close and personal, hell, even good old 2D counts. Back in my day it was scrambled tits on stolen TV channels ad we were damn grateful.”

Carl tried to even his breath. His stomach jumped nervously as Negan held out the magazine for him to see. If he wanted to look he’d have to turn his head to get a better view, and despite himself, he did. Negan’s shoulder in his white T-shirt brushed against his own, making him shiver. He fought to ignore the sinking feeling stirring in his stomach.

Negan opened to a page Carl hadn’t seen earlier, “I’m glad you didn’t take these. She’s my favorite.”

Cursing himself silently, Carl turned slightly and saw a woman with her legs spread open wide presenting herself for them.

“The clit is there,” Negan stated frankly.

Carl tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He should have turned around. He should have closed his eye and given Negan a smart ass remark. But he couldn’t tear away from the magazine. She was glistening, and open, and smiling seductively. And Carl was getting hard again looking at her.

Leaning in closer with his voice barely above a whisper, Negan continued, “Now, most guys think it’s _all_ about fucking. Slamming their dicks in hard and fast. Getting them to squeal. And trust me, that has its place. But right _there_ is what you want to worship.” His fingers traced around her body then circled around her clit.

Carl couldn't help but notice the stark contrast of Negan's rough fingers against the page of what looked like such smooth, delicate skin. He was throbbing behind the restricting fabric of his jeans and with his heart thumping quickly behind his chest, he was pissed as hell at Negan for trying to embarrass him.

“Makes my mouth water just to look at,” he spoke softly. “You ever tasted pussy, Carl?”

He didn’t answer.

Negan continued anyway, “Fuckin’ heaven. The way their legs wrap around your head. The moans they make. The way their breath hitches right before they come. Makes me hard as fuck just thinking about it.”

It pained him to notice that Negan's breathless voice lacked the usual sarcasm.

Turning the page, Carl saw the same woman now with a dick in her hand from a man next to her, licking the tip of a purpling cock. Failing to ignore the twitch of interest in his pants, he took a deep breath and imagined what a wet tongue like that, hungry for his dick might feel like. 

“You can unzip your pants if it’ll help,” Negan suggested without his mocking tone.

When he turned to the next page the woman had a cock deep in her pussy and her lips wrapped tight around another. Carl fought the release of a moan. This time he didn’t think as his fingers tracing the front of his pants made their way to unbutton and unzipp his jeans. Relief from the pressure was welcome but it didn’t do much to alleviate his arousal.

“Shit, look at that. Beautiful fucking creatures like that just don’t exist anymore," Negan sighed wistfully. "Look at the way she’s riding that cock. Do you know _how_ fucking good a hot, wet cunt feels around your prick? There’s nothing like a woman who knows how to ride a cock, Jesus Christ,” Negan said sincerely.

Carl’s palms itched as he held them firmly at his sides. He wanted to grab his dick. He hurt from the restrained tension, still trapped behind his boxers.

“What about a blow job, Carl?”

For a moment the image of Negan's lips wrapped around his dick flashed in his mind. He swallowed nervously, shaking the unwelcome image from his mind. He could tell Negan was looking at him now. He could feel his breath ghosting over his forehead as he leaned closer but Carl continued to stare at the magazine.

“You ever get head before?” Negan’s question was genuine. It wasn’t a judgement, just a simple question.

Carl shook his head slowly, eye never leaving the page.

“You want to know what that feels like? What it’s like to fuck into a hot, wet hole? Feel pink lips wrapped tight around your little cock?”

He thought for a moment before shrugging, then berating himself for responding at all.

“Smoking dick isn’t as good as eatin’ pussy but it’s not bad either,” Negan said softly.

The tension in the room was overwhelming. Carl didn’t understand why he was talking about that. Probably to throw him off, and it was working.

Negan waited a moment before adding, “I’m gonna make this easy for you. In about two minutes, I’m gonna drop to my knees. I’m gonna get my hand around that prick of yours and swallow it down my throat. This isn’t a trick. It’s not a punishment. You don’t want this? You tell me to fuck off. I’ll take you home, no questions asked.”

He couldn’t be serious. Carl’s head spun around the words.

“But it’s a damn shame you’re whatever-the-fuck age you are and no one’s given you head. You could _die_ at any time out there. Die a fucking virgin?” He whistled in disbelief. “So, if you want _me_ to give you a hand with your _problem-_ ” he never finished, letting the offer hang dangerously in front of him.

While Carl was trying to figure out just exactly what game Negan was playing at, his dick twitched anxiously reminding him of it’s neglect. He knew Negan was pushing him. Testing him to see what he’d do. _Breaking his balls_ , as he so affectionately put it. And Carl wasn’t about to give him what he wanted. He wasn’t going to cave in, chicken out to his empty threats, only to fuel future taunting.

Carl opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t know what he could even begin to say. He _wanted_ to tell him to fuck off like Negan suggested, but the incessant teasing it would bring seemed exhausting. For some reason he felt compelled not to protest. A small needling thought was screaming at him to wait and see what would happen. The lump in the back of his throat wouldn’t let him speak anyway.

Negan quickly pushed the magazine into his chest. Carl grabbed it without thought and before he realized, Negan, true to his word, was on his knees in front of him. As Negan’s hands scrambled to his zipper, Carl he leaned back out of shock. Disbelief of what was happening, but still confident that Negan wouldn’t actually follow through. He was fucking with him, he had to be. And Carl wasn’t going to cave.

He found Negan wasn’t deterred by his dumbfounded awe.

Carl whimpered when he felt the rough, callused hands wrap tight around him. No one had ever touched him like that before. Negan. _Negan_ was the first person to ever put hands on him like that. In that moment, a mere sliver of a second, he realized Negan was serious. Negan was actually going to suck him off.

A wave of panic briefly stirred in his stomach. He _needed_ to stop him. He _had_ to make him quit.

“Ne-” just as he was about to protest, he felt his dick slip between soft lips and felt the sweep of Negan’s tongue lap around the head of his cock. “Fuck,” he sighed breathlessly.

Distantly in his mind he was screaming for him to stop. How the hell did Negan have his cock in his mouth? He wanted to run. He wanted to get the hell away from that room. Get the hell away from Negan. But his feet wouldn’t move. And any moving he _could_ manage was only to sway further into the wet heat of Negan’s mouth.

Negan hummed appreciatively, lips tight around him, which was a whole new sensation for Carl.

Forgetting the magazine, it fell carelessly from his hands and landed disheveled on the floor. Carl noticed the page it landed open to. Wide open. Legs spread, ball deep in pussy, with another woman licking her clit.

“Shit,” Carl fell forward. He braced himself on Negan’s shoulders and blocked out all thoughts of the strong muscles he found there. Instead he focused on that image. The woman with her head thrown back. She was glistening wet and her skin looked so smooth.

Negan wrapped his fist tight around the base of Carl’s dick. He stroked him swiftly as his tongue worked the tip. Deft fingers ran over the length of him, pumping him through the waves of pleasure. He could feel it building, tingling deep in his balls. It was all too much. He fought himself to push that feeling away. This was _Negan_ in front of him, on his knees. Dark hair, scratchy beard, foulmouthed, asshole Negan. And Carl was going to come down his throat. The very image of it shouldn’t have made him as hard as it did.

For a brief second he thought to warn him, but realized he never _wanted_ any of this. He didn’t _want_ Negan stroking him hard into his mouth. Or sucking up and down his length. Negan was doing this _to_ him, he knew what was going to happen and hopefully he’d choke on it as he came.

Carl didn’t realize when he’d started thrusting into Negan’s mouth, or when his hands moved to the back of Negan’s head. It just felt so damn good. He wanted to fuck in harder and farther, as deep as his throat would take him. He wanted Negan to gag on his dick and suffocate around each thrust.

But Negan took all of it. Greedily and with great enthusiasm, he was pulling Carl as close as he could get, grabbing at his ass to get his cock in to the hilt.

Carl’s legs began to shake weakly, a quiet warning that he couldn’t take this anymore. The way Negan’s tongue swept around the tip and how he bobbed back and forth, swallowing him with each thrust.

His eye rolled back as his fingers dug in deep around Negan’s hair. He held him in place as he felt hot spurts of come spill out of his dick and over Negan’s tongue. He clenched tight as he emptied himself into his mouth, and Negan took it all.

As he breathed softly, he felt the soft gentle licks cleaning around his shaft. Carl could barely register what had happened.

When he blinked open his eye, he saw Negan below him, tucking his limp dick back into his pants.

Taking a shaky step backward, Carl watched carefully as Negan stood up. He could see Negan was clearly hard behind his jeans, too tight to hide anything, and he smiled back at him that same cocky grin that made Carl want to punch him in his face. His hair was disheveled but Negan pushed it back in place, taming it and erasing evidence of what had happened.

“You gonna make me do that to you now?” Carl was angry and breathless and felt sick as he spat out the words. His stomach churned at the idea of wrapping his lips around Negan’s dick. All he wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and never think about this again. “Is _that_ my punishment?”

“No,” Negan said, barely above a whisper. “That was me being a nice guy. You fight me, Carl but you don’t have to. _Next time_ you decide you want something, _that’s_ when you can blow me.”

Relief flooded over him. He asked genuinely, “You’re not going to make me-”

Laughing quietly, Negan said, “No, kid. There may be a hell of a lot of things I'll make you do, but that ain't one of them. But I’m serious about a trade. You think of something you need? Batteries or knives or some shit? You come talk to me. We might be able to figure out an _arrangement_.”

Carl watched him carefully as he bent over reaching for Lucille, then the magazine. He began to walk past Carl but stopped unexpected, nudging his shoulder gently into Carl’s. He handed the magazine to him.

“Keep it, kid. You need it more than I do.”

He walked out briskly. The door latched shut behind him leaving a cold echo in its wake.

Carl was left staring blankly ahead at the cupboards. The attempts he made at slowing his racing heart were futile. In his confusion he couldn’t place his emotions.

Angry. He was still angry. But mostly he felt like he just lost some kind of fight he was unaware he had been in.

Quickly, he rolled up the magazine and tucked it in the back of his pants. He zipped up his jeans and took a deep breath, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

He wasn’t given a chance, however, as the door burst open. The same Savior as before motioned for him to follow him.

It was a long awkward walk as they made their way back to Carl’s truck. The Savior climbed in behind the wheel as Carl opened the passenger door. Normally he’d be protesting but in all honesty he just wanted to get away.

He didn’t know what he was expecting by coming out there but it definitely hadn’t been what happened.

The drive was long. He was relieved he wasn’t expected to make small talk. The whole way home there was a dull pressure low on his back. The magazine reminding him of what happened when all he wanted to do was forget. His mind wouldn’t let him. Thoughts raced wildly around the way Negan’s mouth felt. How he knew just how to work him. Carl’s stomach churned at the memory but his mind wouldn’t stop.

When he finally arrived at Alexandria, Carl didn’t even bother to protest the Savior taking the truck back to the outpost. He trudged quietly back to his house, hoping to find a safe hiding spot for the magazine. If he was smart he’d just burn the damn thing. But he had to admit that he couldn’t quite get himself to destroy it.

He was actually surprised Negan had given it to him at all. And he offered him more besides. If Carl had heard that offer before, he would have told Negan to fuck off. He wouldn’t have believed him. But now he knew he was serious.

Negan would give him things if he blew him. It was as simple and disgusting as that. A thought he didn’t even want to entertain. But it festered away in the corner of his mind for days anyway. He picked away at the memory, slowly obsessing over the offer. Any attempts at pushing those intrusive thoughts as far from his brain as possible only resulted in failure.

Watching Judith, training with his new aim, working around Alexandria trying to reinforcing weak spots in the walls, his mind always wandered from the task back to Negan.

Always Negan.

His hands around him, mouth hot and pressure just right. His stomach fluttered at the memory. He was still mad as hell, pissed at himself for enjoying it. Angry that every time he brought out that damn magazine, instead of seeing the women printed scandalously on the page he only saw Negan when he closed his eye. Remembered his tongue and the way he knew exactly how to work him.

But Carl wouldn’t let himself indulge. Shaking the memory from his thoughts the best he could, he tried to focus again. He walked along the length of the wall, occasionally kicking at loose pieces to make sure they were still sturdy. The lump at the back of his throat made it difficult to swallow as he questioned if Negan really was serious about his offer. Maybe he was still screwing with him? But every time he began to question it, Carl remembered the last time he didn’t take him seriously he wound up with Negan’s lips around his dick.

Despite his better judgment, if Negan _was_ being truthful and actually _would_ give Carl supplies, he at least had to consider it. Maybe he’d be able to talk Negan into easing up on his tight rein in Alexandria.

Carl had to admit, he knew Negan went easy on him. It wasn’t hard to see that he gave him more passes than the others. If Carl was a soft spot for Negan, he was ready to exploit it. He _had_ to. When he saw what everyone else had gone through, what Negan was putting them through, if doing _this_ would mean he could save lives there really wasn’t a choice to make.

Though, he wondered if he would be able to follow through. The way they lived their lives, grasping at the small amount of happiness they could find, he never took much time to consider men before. Women he’d noticed. Women, his body responded to. But his injury thrust him into a new wave of insecurities. His face was disfigured and gross. Negan pointed that out the first time he’d gone to the Sanctuary. He didn’t know how any woman would be able to find him attractive, but Negan understood. It didn’t scare him off. He saw what Carl looked like under his bandage and still-

Swallowing hard, Carl realized Negan had had a point. He _was_ young. There wasn’t anyone else that would want him and this way he could get something in return. Using Negan to obtain more difficult items would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to scavenge and having it taken away. He was pissed as hell about it, but he began to steel his nerves to come up with a new plan.


End file.
